Wayward Son
by 110283
Summary: What happenned the day Sam got his acceptance letter to Stanford. My version of this event entirely from John's POV. Warning: some swearing
1. Chapter 1

**Wayward Son**

**A/N: I was really bored today. I was at work, and sitting in a hut all day (I'm a liftie at a ski hill) is just so boring, so I decided to write a story. I find that most people make John out to be a real asshole, and so I decided to give John a break. This is what I feel John was like. **

**He's definitely not a saint, but he's not a grade A asshole either, he's just a father trying to do the best he can for his boys. Any complaints are welcome if you don't agree with my opinion.**

**And just remember this was written out of boredom, so its not the greatest piece ever, there's a lot of repetition and a lot of John angst!**

**Warnings: Some swearing, not a lot, but still…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural and never will, I just enjoy messing around in-between episodes so please don't sue.**

**Chapter 1**

**Springville Illinois 2001**

I sit here staring blankly at the wall; I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do.

We've been in this town for several months, I don't have the heart to uproot my small family again, and I don't have the strength to go another round with my youngest Sam. We've been here long enough to get a mailing address, and we've been here long enough to actually get some mail.

The other day I found something I wish I never had, because it means I'm going to lose my Sammy. I found Sam's acceptance letter to Stanford. A full ride no less. I knew the kid was smart, but a full ride, that's impressive. Still I don't know whether to be proud, or angry or both.

On one hand, this is what Sam has always wanted; to be normal. I have watched him his whole life, struggling to fit into the world that I have forced him and Dean into. I want him to be happy, I really do, but I don't want to lose him. I can't protect him in California – all that evil out there, he really has no idea. This scares me the most; this is what makes me so angry.

He really doesn't understand, normal isn't part of the equation.

_March 24 1991, Albuquerque New Mexico_

_I could see the toll that this life was taking on my sons. Not to long ago a group of hunters had determined Sammy to be evil, and they decided to hunt him. They chased us across the country until I finally cornered them, I knew I had to kill them, sometimes a man has to do something he doesn't want to in order to protect his family, but I didn't know Dean had followed me. Dean killed a man that night, a man! Oh God Mary what have I done. Our son is a murderer!_

_The hunt was to risky, so I decided to give my boys a normal life. We set down roots; Sammy even got to be a part of the school play. He was so happy. Dean was going a little stir crazy but we were happy, we were safe, or so I thought._

_Mrs. Lyle was Sammy's teacher. She took a real interest in him, encouraged him to be the best he could be. I took a real interest in her to. She was the first woman since Mary that I've had feelings for. I never thought I could feel that way again. I thought that I loved her. That was a mistake._

_I let my guard now._

_Now I watch her, or 'it', Mrs. Lyle taking the limp form of my youngest down the train tracks. Turns out she's not human, probably a demon or something like that. Deans behind me, reading an exorcism, oh God, he's only twelve!_

_I really screwed up._

What Sam doesn't realize is that you can't run away from this life, it will follow you; they will follow you, and kill everyone that's close to you. All these years I've been sheltering him, protecting him from these things, but if he's in California, how can I possibly protect him anymore?

The letter sits in front of me on the kitchen table, taunting me. The clock behind me is ticking, counting down the seconds until my boys come home. Counting down the seconds to the inevitable fight that I am going to have with Sam.

It's 3o'clock now. Any moment I should hear the familiar rumble of the impala signifying that Sam has come home from school.

5, 4,3,2,1…

Right on cue. I hear the door slam at the back of the dilapidated house where we have taken up residence this time around. I can hear the faint mumblings of the conversation between Sam and Dean. Dean's talking about the girl he met at the bar last night. I can practically hear Sam's eyes meet the back of his head as he rolls them in exasperation.

Any moment now.

I want to be proud. What kind of father gets angry at his son for getting accepted to Stanford? Mary look at what our lives have come to? What am I supposed to do? I can't lose him, Sam, Dean they're the only family I have.

I steel myself in preparation. I can't let my emotions get in the way, I need to deal with this, Sam has to know that there's no way in hell he's going to leave us to go to Stanford!

I am ready!

Sam enters the kitchen first, and he immediately sees me. He stops suddenly, a look of fear in his eyes. He knows what's coming. He slowly takes his eyes away from mine, and looks down at the table at the envelope. It takes him several seconds to recognize what it is. Slowly recognition comes and his face drains of all colour. If I weren't so angry right now I think my heart would break.

Dean picks that moment to walk I into the kitchen, right into the stock still form of Sammy.

Sam's looking at me pleadingly, but I don't care. He's looking at me like he hopes maybe I don't know what's in the envelope, he's looking at me like I might be proud. But he knows better.

'Dad…' he says, pleading with me.

'Sammy? Dad? What the hell is going on?' Dean asks. I forgot that he was in the room for a second there; I guess he really had no idea hat Sam was up to either.

'Go ahead Sam, tell Dean what this is!' I say standing up and shoving the letter into his face. I know I'm being cruel but he has to understand.

'I-I … Dad please… I can't do this! I can't hunt for the rest of my life! I can't keep hunting! I've never been good at it, so its not like you're going to be losing much… I don't know how you expect me to stay around and fight this battle; all I've ever wanted is to be normal!'

Now he's trying to justify this. I can't believe it! He's telling me he wants to be normal! I know he wants to be normal but he just doesn't understand being a Winchester… he'll never be able to have a normal life. He was cursed from birth!

'Normal! You selfish, ungrateful bastard! How dare you! I've tried my best to raise, to give you the best possible life, so what if it wasn't 'normal'. Look at what Dean and I have sacrificed for you! – 'my angers getting the best of me now. Now we're just butting heads, and nothing good is going to come out of this.

'Sacrificed! You know what dad, you're the selfish bastard! I never wanted to be apart of this life, this was never my fight to fight! Mom died 18 years ago dad get over it! This obsession – '

I can't control myself; I'm just so angry, I can't lose him. I watch myself as I grab the collar of my son's shirt, and shove him roughly against the wall. Oh God! Mary please, helps us, look what we have become!

'Dad! Dad! Stop!' my oldest runs over from the corner of the room where he had been watching, and waiting for when he would have to intervene. He pries my hands away from Sammy, and Sammy falls into a heap at my feet, sobbing.

'Does somebody want to explain what the fuck is going on!?' Dean asks.

'Your brother has decided that we're not good enough for him. He's decided to head out to California. Aren't you Sam?' I say cruelly fully intending my words to sting.

Sam looks up at his brother, looking for approval possibly? He attempts a smile, looking hopefully at his brother. I know he hopes that Dean will be on his side that Dean will be proud, and that Dean will be the father that I am not. I to turn to Dean, but what I find break my heart even more. All I see is despair in Dean's eyes. I understand he doesn't want to lose Sam anymore than I do.

Dean is quickly turning an unnatural shade of green, and he just as quickly exits the room, heading for the bathroom. Sam starts sobbing harder now. He knows he's just lost his best friend, his ally.

'Why can't I be normal? Why? Why do I always have to be the freak?' I don't know whether he's asking me, or the world.

I know what I'm about to say will tear our family apart, but he's going to have to make a choice, I'm going to give him an ultimatum.

'Sam go! If you want to be so fucking normal just leave! But know that if you walk out that door, don't you ever come back, you hear me?'

He slowly gets up from his position on the wall, and walks away. He refuses to look me in the eye. I know what his choice is, I wish I were wrong, but I know.

Now that the boys are gone, I let my emotions take over. I crumple into the nearest chair, and start sobbing. I have just single handily torn my family apart. Look at what I have done Mary, look at the mess I have created.

I figure its about time to meet up with Jack, so I make my way over to the counter, where my bottle of whiskey is sitting. I poor myself a glass and relish the bitter taste of the alcohol, and the burn as it makes it way down my throat. I don't know how much time has past, but by the time I'm done, theses barely anything left of the previously full bottle.

I can hear my sons arguing upstairs, I can only imagine. After a loud crash, and several choice words from above, I see my youngest making a hasty exit, backpack and duffel in hand. I guess I was right, I guess I lost a son tonight.

After several minutes I hear Dean run down the stairs and follow suit out the door.

'Dean, son where are you going' I ask

'Out!'

I turn back to my bottle of Jack.

Mary what am I supposed to do?

I can't protect him anymore.

**TBC.**

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**Was it okay? Please read and review, I don't care if its critical or not, I just like to know that my story is being read. **


	2. Epilogue

**Wayward Son**

**A/N: This is supposed to be an excerpt from John's journal, and the first chapter was supposed to be how John experienced the event of the Stanford letter incident as it was happening. I plan to write a sequel to this chapter from Sam's perspective the next time I'm bored at work… it will be Sam's perspective of the following event, and will just be a selfish Hurt Sam story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural and never will, I just enjoy messing around in-between episodes so please don't sue.**

**Epilogue **

Palo Alto California 2003

I went to Stanford today. I come every once and awhile to check on Sam. So far he has been safe, and he has been happy. Seeing him so carefree, so happy… I have finally accepted him leaving, I have forgiven him.

Our whole life has been dedicated to the hunt, and Sam never seemed to be happy with the life I brought him up in. I've always felt guilty for that. It's my job to provide for my family, my sons, and I never really did that properly. Now I see Sam, and he has finally gotten what he has always wanted; he is normal.

Up to this point nothing has happened to cause me concern, but today I realized I truly can't keep him from harms way. Not only is the supernatural out to get him, but the world to.

When I first arrived I couldn't find Sam anywhere. Usually he is easy to find. He'll be in the library studying, in class or hanging out with his friends in the student pub. I had checked all of these places but came up blank, so I went to his apartment. When I knocked on the door I was surprised when a tall blonde girl answered the door. I had seen Sam with this girl before, but I hadn't realized how serious they had gotten. It just shows how much I know my son.

I asked her where Sam was. It took some persuasion but I finally got her to trust me enough to tell me where he was. He had gone to the park to play some house league football, with his old dorm team.

Sam always wanted to play sports when he was a kid but I rarely let him. When he was about 8 or 9 I let him play soccer, but that was about the extent of it. Sam always hated me for that, I always made do target practice or drills instead. More proof that he is happy, that he has everything he wants.

The park was easy enough to find, so I parked my car by a particularly wooded area and watched through the leaves.

It was nice watching him. My son has a lot of talent, I never really noticed that. He could easily outrun all of the other players on the field; he could throw it the furthest, and could easily shoulder people out of his way. He was great. I had gotten caught up in the game and had zoned out for a bit, when I suddenly heard a girl scream.

My instincts kicked in and I grabbed my gun, and ran towards the commotion. As soon as I cleared the trees I saw what the problem was, and it made me want to be sick. My son was sitting on the ground curled into the fetal position. He was holding his head, and there was blood seeping through his fingers. I have seen both my sons injured on many occasions, but I never get used to the sight, the sick feeling I get always comes back.

I looked around and found that it was one of the bystanders who had screamed in horror at the blood.

I wanted to run to my son so badly, but I couldn't, I was to damn stubborn to go help him. What kind of father am I? My son was hurt, and I let my pride get in the way!

I watched my son's friends load him into a car, and drive off, and quickly followed them into the local ER.

I waited awhile, until I knew it would be safe to go in, and I managed to get the staff to tell me what happened.

He had broken his arm, and some bruised ribs, and a minor concussion. He was lucky this time.

Today o realized that I couldn't protect my son. I knew this would happen, I just never thought it would be something as simple as a game of football that world hurt him.

Mary how am I supposed to protect him? The whole world is out to get us Winchesters, and my sons are paying the price now. I can't sit back and watch them get hurt. What kind of father am I?

What am I supposed to do?

**END**

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**Hope you enjoyed. Please R&R, its great to know people are actually reading! **


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